


Full Disclosure

by superagentwolf



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mind Meld, My First Work in This Fandom, Poly if you squint, Possibly Pre-Slash, Post-Star Trek Beyond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7772866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superagentwolf/pseuds/superagentwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“May I take this moment to remind you that we are not authorized to enter this particular area of space, Captain?”</p>
<p>Spock is right, as per usual, when he tells Jim it’s a bad idea to go to Sector 13. They're the crew of the Enterprise, though, so what kind of heroes would they be if they didn't explore the restricted area of space? Unfortunately, their foray results in Spock opening one-sided links with both Kirk and McCoy. The First Officer has trouble dealing with the connections and when he has an opportunity to disappear, Jim and Bones deal with the truth in their own peculiar ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Disclosure

The ship is shiny and new.

After much-needed shore leave, Kirk thinks the crew are finally back to normal. Or at least as close as they can get.

It’s been a rough year, Kirk thinks. He’s just glad to be back home.

“Captain. We’re reaching the edge of Federation space.”

“Thank you, Ensign…”

“Rey, sir.”

“Rey.”

_It’s going to be weird getting used to a new Navigator,_ Kirk thinks to himself. Chekov’s decision to try working on another ship had been unexpected, certainly, but not unheard of. Kirk wished the kid well. He hopes maybe, in the future, Chekov will return.

He’s about to issue the order to change course when he sees it.

In the distance, Kirk can see a miasma of colors.

“Spock. What is that?”

The first officer in question turns, an eyebrow quirked in a move Kirk has come to realize is distinctly non-Vulcan. _The human side coming through_.

“Uncertain, Captain. The ship’s computers are reading it as an anomaly.”

_What?_

“Nothing? Sulu?”

“It doesn’t seem to be a supernova or any other kind of destructive force,” the man supplies, shaking his head as his fingers move over his screen.

“Captain- the area in question seems to be a restricted section of Federation space,” Rey says. “Sector Thirteen.”

“So it’s within bounds?”

Kirk can see the side of Rey’s face as she blinks. He thinks he can see something like exasperation in the fleeting expression. _She’ll learn soon enough,_ he thinks. _And if she doesn’t, she’ll transfer._

“No, sir. It’s a region deemed unsafe for travel. It is marked as a no-fly zone.”

Kirk rests his chin on his hand, watching the colors swirl. _It looks like…smoke,_ he thinks. _Or oil dropped in water. Swirling._ He almost can’t look away.

“Let’s get a closer look.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Kirk watches as they approach the miasma. As they get closer, he sees a strange shape.

“Does that look like a ship to you?” he murmurs.

“It may be, Captain,” Spock submits. “However, it is hard to discern whether it is Starfleet or not.”

“Can we match the silhouette to known ships?”

“It is possible. I would like to remind you, however, that it is entirely possible for Starfleet ships to fall into enemy hands.”

Kirk taps his chin with a finger. _To go or not to go. It’s not even a question,_ he thinks.

“Take us in.”

The bridge is silent for a fraction of a second. Most of the crew seem reasonably unsurprised. Kirk can see Rey hesitating.

“May I take this moment to remind you that we are _not_ authorized to enter this particular area of space, Captain?” Spock says.

His voice is even but Kirk can sense the undertone of humor. It’s like a sixth sense left from his connection to Ambassador Spock. He distantly wonders if Spock is trying to help the Ensign but dismisses the idea in favor of the thought that his friend just wants to needle him.

_If Vulcans even call it ‘needling’._

“Duly noted. Ensign.”

“…yes, Captain.”

As they reach the edge of the miasma, Kirk squints. _A ship,_ he thinks. _Looks like Starfleet._ It’s old, though.

“There seem to be no signs of structural damage,” Spock says, gazing at an expanded image of the ship in question.

“Might be a relic, sir,” Sulu explains. “Federation sometimes spaces ships with unstable cores for detonation.”

“They have designated areas for those,” Kirk muses. “Why would they stick one here, on the edge of Federation space? Too risky. It could explode and cause a war.”

“Perhaps-,” Spock starts but he never gets to finish.

As they enter the miasma, the ship jolts. For a second, the _Enterprise_ drops in altitude. _That shouldn’t be possible,_ Kirk thinks fleetingly and then suddenly the lights on the bridge go out.

“Scotty,” Kirk says tightly. The comm is silent. “Scotty.”

“Captain, I think we’ve lost power,” Sulu says. He’s trying to bring up his holoscreen.

“Damnit,” Kirk curses, reaching for his personal communicator. “ _Scotty._ ”

“ _Captain!_ ”

The man’s voice is amplified and Kirk winces, moving the communicator away from his body.

“What’s going on down there?”

“ _We’ve lost power! I think it was an overload- whatever we passed through must have supercharged the core. It must have overheated._ ”

“Can you get us out of here?”

“ _We have to divert the extra power! I may be able to channel it to shields or weapons but they’ll be fried. We’ll be crippled for a short time._ ”

Kirk pauses, glancing at Spock. The half-Vulcan looks curiously green.

“I suggest we divert to weapons, sir. We are close enough to a friendly port that we may be able to dock while repairs are made.”

“The shield or the sword,” Kirk murmurs, shaking his head. “Isn’t that classic?”

“ _Captain? We need to make a decision._ ”

“…divert to weapons, Scotty. Ensign Rey, you’ll have five seconds to get us out of here. Am I clear?”

“Crystal, Captain.”

“ _Diverting the power, Captain. When the lights return we’ll be ready to go!_ ”

Kirk bites the inside of his cheek. He’s about to say something when he sees Spock in his periphery, gripping his station tightly.

“Spock? Getting cold feet?”

It’s a joke- and a bad one at that- but Kirk isn’t sure what to say. Before he can speak again, though, he sees his First Officer slump to the ground, hands pressed to his head.

“Spock!”

The bridge turns almost in unison and Kirk stops paying attention, barreling off his chair and towards Spock.

He feels an itch and burn creep into his fingertips and for a moment his blood feels too warm. _There’s glass between us_ , he thinks numbly but the thought dissipates as he tries to get his First Officer to speak.

“Bones! We’re going to need some help!” Kirk yells over his communicator.

He doesn’t get a response but he hears the beginnings of a rustle as the doctor jumps from wherever he was sitting.

“Spock? Come on,” Kirk mutters, turning him sideways.

He’s almost shocked silent by the expression of utter pain he sees. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears an echo of _Vulcans can’t feel_ and then it disappears, replaced by the sudden realization that his friend is in immense pain.

There’s a sudden jolt and the lights immediately return.

“Rey!” Kirk roars. He can already feel the ship accelerating at a dangerous rate.

When Bones appears a second later Kirk watches Spock turn on the floor, hands falling to the ground as his pained expression collapses. Bones’ hand on his shoulder prompts him to move and the doctor holds his tricorder out, a hand supporting Spock’s head as he scans.

“What the hell happened, Jim?”

 

* * *

 

It starts as a buzz in his mind. He dismisses it, attributing it to disorientation from the ship’s bizarre drop.

After a minute, it doesn’t go away and in fact, gets worse.

Spock finds himself wondering distantly what the feeling is when he answers Jim. He notices the captain’s eyes linger on him for a moment and he wishes things were not always like this. One of them trapped on the other side of a glass wall. He’s shocked when he feels _worry_ flood into him and he knows it is not his.

The sharp burn eventually reaches a crescendo and when Jim turns again, Spock cannot contain the pain he feels. He slides to the floor, hands on his head because suddenly everything is _too close_ and there’s a cloud of _worry shock curiosity_ surrounding him. Every color is blinding and every sound is like a sonic boom, shattering his ears and disassembling his mind.

Even as he feels himself slipping, he concentrates on staying silent. He doesn’t want Jim to worry so he bites his tongue and falls into the comfort of unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

Spock comes to the realization that he is suddenly awake after having been dead to the world.

_Hm,_ he thinks. The phrase is not his. It is very…human.

The wave of worry and relief, mingled in odd balance, is also not his.

He worries for a second what that might mean.

“I think he’s going to be fine, Jim.”

“What happened to him?”

“I’m not sure- you said he just collapsed, right?”

“Well, it wasn’t quick. He looked off to begin with; he just kind of…slumped.”

Spock considers feigning sleep to avoid questioning, noting that he has the beginnings of a headache. It is unpleasant. He reminds himself, however, that comfort takes second place to duty.

“I apologize, Captain,” Spock begins. His voice sounds hoarse to his own ears. He does not recall screaming but his throat seems to suggest otherwise.

As he opens his eyes, Spock watches Jim and McCoy’s faces float into sharp focus, lines of stress smoothing from their faces.

“Jesus, Spock, I thought you were dying,” Jim exhales, shoulders sinking as he leans on his hands at the foot of Spock’s bed.

The worry and relief comes again. Spock begins to question where it is coming from.

He has trained since childhood to control his power. All Vulcan children receive training in order to control the potential of their minds and link with others safely. He, being half-human, had received almost twice the training. If he is truthful, he would say he regards himself as above-average in controlling both the famed nerve-pinch and mental transference.

“I am quite alive,” Spock replies, vaguely distracted. _It cannot be them. We have no physical contact_.

To be sure, Spock glances at Kirk and McCoy, watching their hands. _No physical contact,_ he thinks again.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” McCoy says, eyes sweeping his patient. “We still don’t know what the hell happened.”

Agitation and anxiety flood Spock and he blinks, swallowing.

“Spock, what happened?” Jim asks.

“…I do not know, Captain.”

“Is it internal? Some kind ‘a Vulcan illness?” McCoy asks. His accent is heightened.

“I do not believe so,” Spock begins carefully.

_If I tell Jim what I think, he will feel guilty,_ Spock thinks.

“Well, when did the pain start? What _exactly_ were your symptoms?”

“…it started when we entered Sector Thirteen,” Spock says reluctantly. He feels the immediate rush of guilt hit him like a brick wall. “Captain, it is _not_ your fault.”

“I-,” Jim starts but McCoy interrupts him, shaking his head.

“Damn straight. Vulcan biology is ridiculous. Could ‘a been anything. Now, symptoms.”

“I felt immediate nausea,” Spock says, still looking at Jim. The man looks only vaguely less distraught. “This was followed by a sense of spatial disorientation that resolved itself quickly.”

“So you were carsick,” McCoy says shortly.

Spock is silent for a moment and he can see Jim’s hands flexing anxiously on the bedframe even as he tries to contain a small smile.

“…in my experience, Doctor, ‘ _car_ sickness’ is neither a legitimate medical illness nor capable of rendering one unconscious.”

“May I remind you that _I_ am the doctor here?” McCoy quips.

Spock watches Jim relax a bit. _Routine,_ Spock thinks. _Maintaining ‘normality’ is…comforting to humans in stressful times._

“In the absence of any compelling evidence that I am unwell, I would like to return to my duties, Captain.”

There is a strong sense of agitation again mingled with odd reluctance. Spock is starting to think the agitation belongs to Dr. McCoy. He is not overly surprised.

Jim hesitates for a second, glancing away. Spock waits.

“ _Any_ sign that something is wrong, Spock, I want you back here and in that bed.”

“Yes, Captain.”

 

* * *

 

The bridge is moderately buzzing when Kirk returns. He casts a glance around and the chatter lulls a bit.

Spock isn’t back yet. Kirk had ordered the man to get a drink first, maybe change into a fresh uniform. The First Officer had looked- if possible- grateful for the suggestion. _Always professional,_ Kirk thinks.

“Captain?”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

She’s silent for a moment and Kirk realizes what she is going to ask. _Maybe they’ve patched things up,_ Kirk thinks to himself. Spock and Uhura had been talking, he knew, but he wasn’t sure if they were together again or not.

“I was only wondering if we needed to change Alpha shift, sir.”

“No, Lieutenant. Our First Officer is returning to duty.”

He smiles when her shoulders drop, a confident nod ending their exchange. _There’s another professional,_ Kirk thinks with amusement. _I wonder why I never saw it._

He doesn’t have time to mull. Spock appears on the bridge, silent as usual, casting a glance and a firm nod at Kirk. He looks better, Kirk thinks. _Not green anymore._

He’s a bit confused when Spock and Uhura don’t acknowledge each other.

Kirk is still worried. They know nothing about why Spock collapsed. He’s almost sure that it had something to do with Sector 13, though.

“Ensign Rey. Any new information about Sector 13?”

“We didn’t receive many usable scans, Captain,” Rey starts. She sounds annoyed. “I was able to compile fragmented readouts, however- we may be able to run them through our database and compare elemental composition to known astronomical events.”

As Kirk watches, Sulu’s head snaps to Rey. He stares at her for a moment and Kirk raises an eyebrow. _What was that about?_

“Run them through.”

“Already done, Captain,” Rey says.

She doesn’t sound proud. Just…factual. _Well, then._

“Let me know if we turn up any results.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Alpha shift passes swiftly and Kirk begins to think that maybe, just once, they’ll make it to port without incident. He’s glad to leave for lunch, stress and worry eventually catching up to him. _Maybe I should have some of Spock’s weird tea,_ he thinks.

“Captain.”

Kirk swears he levitates an inch off his seat.

“ _Spock_. You scared me,” Kirk breathes, face sinking into his hands. He didn’t even hear Spock walk up beside him.

“…an unfortunate habit of mine, it seems. I apologize.”

_Was that a joke? I think that was a joke?_

Kirk exhales slowly, hands resting by his tray. _I don’t even like broccoli,_ he thinks dumbly, looking at the food he doesn’t remember ordering.

Before him is a cup of tea. He stares at it, wondering if he’s hallucinating.

“Spock- did you-?”

“You are still experiencing undue stress. I thought it wise to offer,” Spock explains, fingers steepled under his chin. “…it may not be to your taste.”

The admission is very human, Kirk thinks. He appreciates it.

“Thank you.”

It’s surprisingly good. Bitter, but good.

“I am glad you approve,” Spock says quietly.

Kirk blinks.

“I didn’t-,”

Spock blinks. For a fraction of a second- _just_ a fraction- Kirk thinks he sees a vague hint of panic. It’s gone in an instant.

“As you did not regurgitate it or express outright displeasure, I assumed,” Spock quips.

Kirk smiles, shaking his head. He wants to hold on to the moment, enjoy the fact that his friend is so very _open_ after a period of near-silence. _We fell into a rut,_ Kirk thinks. _A rut, where everything became routine and I couldn’t pull myself out enough to see what was happening past my own nose._

“You assumed,” Kirk repeats with a grin.

He thinks that maybe, just maybe, Spock’s lips twitch in the ghost of a smile.

 

* * *

 

Kirk insists that Spock stop by Bones’ office after Alpha shift. He’s surprised again when the FO agrees without incident and even more surprised when the most Spock and Uhura share is a friendly glance.

They’re in the lift and Kirk, idiot that he is, can’t help opening his mouth.

“I thought maybe you two had patched things up.”

He regrets it almost immediately.

To his surprise, however, Spock doesn’t tense up. There’s no professional mask dropping over his face and Kirk wonders if it’s the mystery illness or perhaps something else.

“I am not sure what you mean. We _have_ reconciled,” Spock states.

“Oh. I guess- I don’t know, I thought she might be more excited to see her boyfriend still alive.”

_That_ does something. Spock seems to shrink a little and Kirk wants to kick himself because it looks like his friend’s been kicked in the heart. _Vulcans can’t love,_ the little voice sings and Jim hates it.

“…we have reconciled,” Spock says quietly. “However- it was decided that our…relationship would not continue. It was not…in her best interests.”

“ _Her_ interests? What about-,”

“I care about her,” Spock says firmly, cutting him off. “And I think I have done enough harm already.”

Kirk is stunned into silence and then the doors open. Spock steps out, walks towards Bones’, and Jim follows feeling only a little shitty about bringing the topic up.

Bones sends Kirk a questioning look when they enter. _I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings around these two,_ Kirk thinks drily.

“Any changes?” the doctor asks, electing to give them the peace of ignorance. Kirk is grateful.

“No, Doctor,” Spock replies but Kirk can see the edges of panic he’d seen in the mess hall.

“Are you sure?” Kirk asks, pressing. Bones shoots him a look.

_What the hell is going on?_

Spock looks at Kirk for a long moment. Kirk tries not to flush under the steady gaze, instead trying to read the dark eyes fixed on him.

“I am fine.”

_Yeah,_ Kirk thinks, heart dropping in his chest. _Something’s wrong._

 

* * *

 

When he reaches his chambers, Spock releases a pent-up breath. _Bad practice,_ he thinks dimly, not really caring. He knows there is tension knotted within him so he moves automatically to a clear space on his floor, the spot marked by a small dish of incense.

His head still hurts so he ignores the incense, instead crossing his legs and slipping into a quiet peace.

_Something is wrong. I am…feeling things I should not be able to,_ he thinks.

Spock has no illusions about his humanity. He knows that half of him- more or less, he knows, because fertilization and genetic material is never beautifully split- is human. He knows that he, as half-Vulcan, is the very embodiment of contradiction. His biology, heritage, and teachings are constantly at war with each other.

He has learned how to reconcile his differences, though. It is for that reason that he feels absolutely sure that the emotions he is sensing are not his own.

What he does not know is why he is feeling _both_ Jim and McCoy’s emotions.

 

* * *

 

It is late in the evening when there is a knock on Spock’s door.

It is hesitant, quiet even. It gives Spock pause but he feels- _feels_ \- after a moment who it is.

“Come in, Jim,” he says quietly, speaking up just enough for the microphone to catch his voice.

The door slides open softly and Jim enters, pausing a step in as he catches sight of Spock.

“What are you doing?”

_Checking,_ Spock thinks. He is sitting at his desk, tricorder flickering brightly as he reads its data on a holo screen.

“Performing a routine data review,” Spock says instead. It’s not a lie.

Jim is silent, arms crossed over his chest. _Crossed arms,_ Spock thinks, _are a sign of self-protection._

He addresses the situation because he’s seen the data string he needs to and he knows, without a doubt, that until he figures out how to fix the link he’ll be connected to both Jim and McCoy. Half of the problem has solved itself, really- Spock is rarely around Dr. McCoy. Jim, however…

“Is something wrong, Jim?”

Even he is taken aback at his soft tone. He wonders for a moment if it’s Jim rubbing off on him. _No. Perhaps not._

Jim blinks, wets his lips nervously.

“You’re scared,” Jim says. It is sudden, loud in the confines of Spock’s quarters.

_It is true._

“…what do you mean?”

He doesn’t say that fear is illogical, or an emotion that only humans feel. Jim notices.

“You’ve been-,”

Jim is cut off when an alarm blares loudly in the hallway. It’s muted in Spock’s room, a request due to the heightened sensitivity of Vulcan hearing. Jim only hesitates for a fraction of a second.

“Let’s go,” the man says, running towards the bridge. “We’ll talk later.”

 

* * *

 

“What’s going on?”

“ _There’s a leak,_ ” Scotty says over the comm link. “ _It must have happened when we diverted power to weapons._ ”

“How far are we from port?”

“Half an hour, captain,” Rey says immediately.

_Not fast enough,_ Kirk thinks. _We need to get there._

“Damn it…Scotty, can we accelerate?”

“ _Bad idea, Captain! The energy is leaking back into the core- we may overheat it again, or worse, start a fire._ ”

“Can we get it fixed?”

“ _Temperatures in the maintenance ducts are extremely high, Captain- we can’t send someone down without risk of-,_ ”

“Captain,” Spock interrupts, loud enough to cut Scotty off but controlled. “I would like to volunteer-,”

“Like _hell_ ,” Jim blurts automatically. It hits him after the words have left his mouth that maybe he should be a bit more restrained.

_Who gives a fuck. My crew knows me,_ he thinks.

“Captain, my biology-,”

“Does not make you indestructible,” Kirk finishes, feeling panic and anger simmer in his chest. “The answer is _no_ , Mr. Spock.”

Out of the corner of his eye Kirk sees Sulu exchange a glance with Rey. He can practically hear the man’s unspoken explanation. _When he uses the ‘mister’, it’s serious._

“Scotty, can we make it without patching the leak?”

“ _…it’s possible, sir,_ ” Scotty says, hesitant. Jim thinks the man probably heard everything.

“It’s not ideal but at this point I don’t want to send anyone down,” Jim sighs. “We haven’t encountered hostiles; if we can get to port it won’t matter.”

“ _Yes, Captain. I’ll monitor the situation,_ ” Scotty says.

When the comm shuts off Kirk swivels in his chair, ready to chew out his First Officer.

He’s greeted by an empty seat.

 

* * *

 

It is a familiar act.

One of them suggests something (usually involving sacrifice, Spock notes), the other refuses, the first does it anyways.

_Like an infinite loop,_ Spock thinks to himself as he rides the lift down.

He knows the leak probably isn’t dangerous. If it is, though, he wants to be close enough to get to the engineering deck without having to fight Jim.

He retires to his room again, hoping to meditate on the tricorder scans. The hail from Jim is almost immediate.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Where are you?”

His tone is demanding but Spock can only sense the distant echoes of worry and anger. He thanks the distance between them for softening the emotions.

“I apologize, Captain. I thought it best to retire to my quarters given Dr. McCoy’s suggestion to rest.”

The room is silent for a minute and Spock, despite the distance between them, can imagine Jim’s face as he relaxes in his seat. He can see the man rubbing his face, strain and anxiety taking over.

He feels guilty.

“Good. Good,” Jim repeats, the word a sigh leaving his mouth. “Stay there.”

The last words are firm. Almost a directive. Not quite.

“Yes, Captain.”

He misses the man’s presence when the link closes.

It takes Spock a moment to collect his thoughts and when he does, he opens the tricorder readings again.

_There, at the moment I lost consciousness,_ Spock thinks to himself while staring at the blue-white text. _They were both present. Both holding physical contact._

He remembers the spike of pain, like an ice pick driving itself through his head. Pain and then nothing.

Nothing but Jim and McCoy, like constants in an equation where the only variable is which one of them trouble will befall.

 

* * *

 

Spock emerges from his meditative trance when he feels a rush of _panic fear determination_. He knows immediately what he must do.

It is easy to slip on his uniform, easier still to disappear amongst the hectic movement of the Engineering crew. He makes it over to Scott easily, admiring for a moment the controlled chaos of the man at work.

“Mr. Scott.”

“What- Mr. Spock, what are you doing down here?” His tone changes, aggrieved to surprised.

“The Captain has determined that I might be of use,” Spock submits.

“Right. Well, I didn’t expect the leak to be this bad,” the man says by way of explanation, leading Spock to the maintenance shafts. “It’s started affecting our warp core. We need to patch it at least before we’re dead in the water.”

Spock notes with vague interest that Scott’s accent- much like McCoy’s- is heightened in times of stress.

_I shall have to study that after we dock,_ Spock thinks to himself as he gazes into the yawning darkness of the shaft.

“How much time will I have?”

“At the most, ten minutes. Here- gloves. Use this to cover the tear,” Scott explains, offering a small metal device. “Press the button and it’ll lock into place.”

“Once the leak is addressed, is there any danger of other issues arising?”

It’s a pointless question, Spock knows. There are always dangers. He asks anyways, though. _Humans feel better when they have exhausted all possibilities,_ he thinks. _It will be easier on him if he thinks I am fully prepared._

“I don’t know,” Scott says, frustrated. He looks tired, Spock thinks. “Be careful.”

Spock can only afford a curt nod, dropping into the shaft with easy grace.

_I hope Jim does not find out._

 

* * *

 

“He _what_?”

Kirk can hear his own icy tone as he rises from his seat, immediately turning to leave the deck.

He pauses, though, because there’s a voice at the back of his head.

_I would never have let my First Officer do that._

Pike, after the eruption. Pike, like always, saying one thing out loud and another with his tone. The unspoken half of the question.

**_I would never have gone back._ **

On top of Sector 13, Kirk can already see the pages of the report that will address his First Officer fixing the leak without permission.

_Sometimes I’m surprised we’re all still flying,_ Kirk thinks to himself.

“ _Captain. He- Mr. Spock wants me to patch him through to you. Communication is fuzzy in the shaft but-,_ ”

“Do it,” Kirk says immediately, turning back to grip his chair.

He _wants_ to be running down to engineering. He can feel eyes on him, can sense the question. They’re wondering why he isn’t running.

He wonders, too.

“ _Captain,_ ” Spock’s static voice issues over the comm.

“Mr. Spock, you are in _serious_ trouble,” Kirk says but the words are softened by the half-laugh he can’t help, the relief he feels at hearing his friend’s voice.

“ _I fail to see why, Captain. This was the logical outcome._ ”

If he weren’t so worried, Kirk would probably laugh at the mild response. He _knows_ there’s teasing in there, hidden beneath half a Vulcan and a whole jerk.

“Right. As soon as you patch that leak I want you out of there; do you understand?”

“ _Of course, Captain. My body is not acclimated to **that** much heat._”

Kirk bites back his grin.

There’s a brief silence and the sounds of shifting and metal. Kirk tries to ignore the low growl Spock makes when he does whatever it is Scotty told him to.

_Come on, come on,_ Kirk thinks, anxious.

“ _The patch is in place,_ ” Spock says, vaguely breathless.

_What’s wrong with me?_ Kirk wonders. He’s feeling a confused mess of relief and…something else.

“Good. Now get out. I’m on my way.”

He doesn’t get inside the lift before he hears Scotty’s voice on the comm.

“ _Hold on a minute- Mr. Spock, you need to get out **now**!_ ”

Kirk feels his heart pound like a drum as he overrides the lift, cranking it as fast as it can go.

 

* * *

 

Kirk barrels around the corner and almost right into Scotty.

“Captain, he’s-,”

“Where is he?” Kirk demands, pushing past the man and towards the maintenance shaft.

“Captain, _listen_ ,” Scotty nearly yells, looking somewhat afraid and also…embarrassed?

_What the hell for?_

“Jim,” Bones says from the door.

“Bones, what-,”

“This is going to be awkward,” Bones says, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“What?”

“The temperature down there is extreme,” Bones starts, glancing at Scotty, who looks immensely relieved to be left out of the explanation. “He’s wearing gloves, but apparently they only do so much.”

“And- what? What are-,”

_Oh._

Bones raises an eyebrow as Kirk stands frozen in place, fighting a raging blush.

_Vulcans have over twice the nerve endings than we do in their fingers,_ he hears someone say in the back of his mind. Whispering while Spock taught the class. _Wonder what would happen if he slammed ‘em in a door?_

“He’s going to be…overheated,” Bones winces, trying to ignore the use of the word. “We should probably get him to his room as soon as he comes up.”

“Right. All right,” Kirk agrees but his own voice sounds distant to his ears. “Scotty- keep your crew away from the door. Bones…”

He wants to say _we’ll help him,_ but part of him is unsure. _Spock won’t want **anyone** to help him, **see** him like this, _he thinks. It’s a good idea to limit the people in contact with him. Kirk wants to send Bones back but he knows that as the ship’s doctor it’s technically his right to stay.

Bones watches him struggle for a minute and then he sighs, shaking his head as he runs a hand over his face.

“All right. Look- that pointy-eared bastard probably won’t want me around. But _you_ make sure he gets to his room and _make_ him come see me when…he can. No excuses.”

“Right. I will,” Kirk promises, not entirely sure how he’s going to accomplish the task at hand.

When the Scotty and Bones disappear, Kirk is left to listen as Spock ascends the ladder, getting closer and closer.

Kirk swallows, hard.

“Spock. Ah…you doing all right?” Kirk asks. He isn’t sure he can sound casual.

_Was he **flirting** with me earlier?_

The realization unfortunately hits Kirk just as he sees the top of Spock’s head appear. _Well, fuck._

“Captain,” Spock acknowledges. He sounds out of breath, Kirk thinks.

“You know, that was a stupid thing to do.”

“Perhaps,” Spock says lightly but Kirk can see the man moving as quickly as he can, nearly slipping on a step.

“Careful-,” Kirk warns, immediately reaching down to grab Spock’s hand.

There’s a tiny gasp, a small noise punctuated by something that sounds like a whine in the back of Spock’s throat.

The blush that Kirk has been fighting springs forth with a vengeance and he can feel his face heating, almost buzzing with a mixture of embarrassment and something he doesn’t want to think about yet.

Kirk drops Spock’s hand as if burned, blinking rapidly.

“Sorry,” he says immediately, trying desperately to play it off. “You probably need ice; I know it was hot down there.”

Spock almost leaps out of the tunnel, ducking his head as he stares at his partially burned gloves. _He’s avoiding eye contact_.

Kirk is about to say something when Spock begins to walk faster than he ever has before. Kirk has a time keeping up with the First Officer’s longer legs, nearly jogging as he follows.

“I apologize, Captain. I need- I believe I need to retire to my quarters,” Spock says, choking on his words.

He sounds like a man losing control, Kirk thinks dimly.

“Right. Were you burned? Bones-,”

“I am fine,” Spock says immediately but his tone fluctuates.

“Oh, like _hell_ ,” Kirk starts, trying to speak, but they arrive at Spock’s door and the FO is about to disappear inside so he moves on instinct.

He grabs Spock’s wrist this time but it jolts him and then Kirk is speechless because Spock makes a choking noise and when his head turns Kirk his angled cheekbones are flushed with green.

_Maybe that was a mistake,_ Kirk thinks.

“Jim, _please_ ,” Spock says.

He sounds wrecked and Kirk can hear his own heart _thump-whoosh_ in his ears. He wants to say _I’ll help_ and the thought shocks him enough that he drops Spock’s hand and watches his friend disappear into his room. He wonders, not for the first time-

_What is wrong with me?_

 

* * *

 

Kirk has known for some time that he swings in _all_ directions. With gusto. It’s just that, according to population and chance, he’s more likely to hit on women.

Apparently, Spock is shaping up to be the first male-identifying life form Kirk has ever accidentally become interested in.

“Damn it,” Kirk groans, turning over in bed for the fiftieth time since he’s gone to sleep.

_It just **had** to be him._

Kirk is used to falling for the wrong person- wrong in an emotionally available kind of way, usually. Sometimes in an important-person’s-daughter kind of way. He’s never had the dubious pleasure of- _accidentally_ , he reminds himself- falling for a _friend_.

He knows what’s wrong with himself now. What he doesn’t know is how to fix it, before it breaks.

 

* * *

 

When Spock awakens, his body is humming pleasantly. He muscles are loose with sleep and- embarrassingly, he begins to recall- the release he had found once locked in his quarters.

As his mind sharpens he begins to remember in more detail what had transpired once he had emerged from the maintenance shaft.

_Jim,_ he thinks, almost paralyzed with a sudden rush of despair, shock, and shame.

The emotions are so strong he thinks for a moment they’re someone else’s and his condition has worsened.

After a few even breaths, however, he realizes that is not the case.

He knows what he must do.

 

* * *

 

Bones is under no mistaken impression that Spock is okay.

He’d known, at first, that the stubborn (yes, _stubborn_ ) Vulcan had experienced something dangerous in Sector 13. He hadn’t known _what_ , but he’d known something was wrong.

It had clicked into place after the leak.

They were docking when Bones rose from his seat, mouth hanging partway open, eyes wide as he stared at a spot on the far wall.

“Sir?”

He blinks, looking at Christine, who is concerned.

“Go on,” he tries to reassure her, clearing his throat when the words come out in a croak. “I forgot something.”

_Boy, did I forget something_.

He practically sprints to Jim’s room, sure the man is going to check on his First Officer as soon as he packs his things. Bones knows that Spock has been locked in his room for the last half hour- it had taken them fifteen to get to port and another fifteen to go through the rigmarole of requesting decontamination (for the Sector 13 incident) and a maintenance team (for the leak).

“Jim. Open up.”

There’s a shuffle behind the door, a muffled _ow_.

“C’m in, Bones,” Jim manages.

Bones snorts when he enters, taking in the scene before him. Jim is half-dressed, a grey cotton shirt hanging around his neck as he throws items into a backpack. There’s a security card clamped firmly between his teeth and as Bones watches, he maneuvers his arm into a sleeve.

“Jim, I know what’s wrong with Spock.”

He watches the comical widening of Jim’s eyes, the way the security card falls onto the floor with a _clack_.

_He’s more of a mess than I am,_ Bones thinks drily. _For once_.

“What? What happened? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. I think. Or- not really,” Bones stops and starts over again, shaking his head. He sighs deeply, trying not to feel his age. _What the hell am I doing in space, anyways?_

“Damn it, Bones- what’s going on? Is he okay or not?”

“Look- I don’t know. All I know is, this has something to do with his damn…mind-reading stuff.”

“…mind reading,” Jim says, voice distant. He seems to have realized something.

“Yeah,” Bones says, unsure. “Whatever we passed through in Sector 13 must have affected him. I’m not sure _how_ he’s been affected but he _has_ been.”

“So- so you think he can…tell what we’re thinking?”

Bones can practically hear Jim swallow. He wonders, not for the first time, what the hell his life has become.

“Not really- I mean, I’m no Vulcan but from what I know it’s more like…emotions.”

“Okay,” Jim says slowly, kneeling to retrieve his card. “Okay. I need to talk to him.”

“Hold on, cowboy- maybe you should wait. I’m the doctor here and I _still_ haven’t seen him. He’s technically under my care until he sets foot off this ship and if you talk to him, he may bolt. Lemme go see him first.”

Jim blinks, still halfway into his shirt. For a minute Bones feels sorry for him and then he remembers that technically it’s both Jim and the stupid Vulcan’s fault that this happened. _No sympathy here._

“Okay,” Jim finally says, nodding. “Let me know what happens.”

 

* * *

 

Bones knocks on the door, wishing for the thousandth time that he didn’t have to worry about Vulcans and their goddamned biology.

“Enter.”

Bones shakes his head but steps inside anyways, eyes adjusting to the dim room. He almost chokes on his spit when he sees Spock.

Not that he didn’t know Spock showered. It’s just that Spock never showered directly before going on duty, so Bones has never experienced the Vulcan fresh out of the shower.

It is, frankly, a sensory overload.

Spock has a very precise haircut. Just washed, however, his hair seems just a little unruly- almost as if it might naturally be wavy, fighting the severe lines of his usual style. His skin is barely flushed with green (heat? from the shower?) and his lashes seem dark, spiky against his pale skin. There is a towel around his neck and he’s wearing loose pants and an interesting grey shirt that looks oddly familiar.

Besides which, he smells like spices. Some unnamed, unnatural spice and a perplexing hint of vanilla.

Bones’ mouth is suddenly quite dry.

“Doctor. I am feeling better,” Spock says, sounding for all the world as if he is forcing the words out.

“Bullshit,” Bones spits back, trying with near-Herculean effort to quash any and all emotion.

He’s not sure how successful he is but Spock isn’t kicking him out, so.

“There is no need for the language, Doctor.”

“I know it was Sector Thirteen,” Bones cuts him off, watching the miniscule widening of the Vulcan’s eyes with a vague sense of triumph.

_Am I honestly going to get excited about getting emotion out of him? For all I know, it’s someone else’s._

“Doctor, I would appreciate privacy.”

“Damn it, Spock, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong!”

“I do not require help, Doctor,” Spock replies tensely. “I require solitude.”

“Yeah, solitude my ass,” Bones snorts. “Solitude ain’t gonna fix your problem. Besides, you’re under doctor’s orders- _my_ orders- while you’re on this ship. So you can _tell_ me what’s wrong or you can stew here until we leave again.”

There’s a line of irritation between Spock’s eyebrows. Again, Bones wonders whose it is. _Where does he end and his problem begin?_

“The unfortunate result of visiting Sector Thirteen, Doctor, is that I am unable to close a connection between the Captain, yourself, and me.”

And _that_. _That_ stops Bones’ train of thought like a boulder on train tracks.

“…us?” Bones manages, thinking that maybe the world is spinning.

“Yes. Now, Doctor, if you do not mind.”

Spock disappears into his closet and Bones, at a loss, turns to leave.

_Jim’s gonna love this one._

 

* * *

 

Spock knows that he is running.

His Vulcan half reminds him that running, in some cases, is logical. His Human half screams that he is being weak.

The competing arguments are not compelling enough to quell his instinct. He runs, leaving the ship after he suspects Dr. McCoy has gone to tell Jim the news.

Logically, he knows he will have to face the issue upon returning. Some part of him, though, seems to think that maybe this problem will fix itself. That maybe the open connection can be severed.

He does not know what will happen, so he leaves.

He only gets five miles from the ship before collapsing in an alley, out of sight, body curled into itself in pain.

_Worry pain fear_ envelop him and his head is swimming. The threads of connection, so thin but _there_ , feel as if they are stretching. His mind is burning with the effort of keeping the connection there and he wants it to break but as it is now, it feels like breaking it will break his mind along with it.

He cannot stomach the thought, does not want to try, so he does the next best thing.

He disappears in plain sight.

 

* * *

 

Kirk finds, at the bottom of his fifth glass, that things can sometimes get clear the fuzzier they are.

He knows Spock is gone for now. There is a possibility he won’t come back but the possibility is fading with each drink that Kirk has.

_He would never leave in that way. He’s a Vulcan. Better yet, he’s Spock. He’d do things properly if it meant signing a contract with blood from his own broken bones._

And if that isn’t a suitably macabre thought Kirk doesn’t know what is.

He barely sees the body sliding into a seat next to him at the bar. When he glances to the side he gets a neon-illuminated view of wings that could cut steel and he thinks with graveyard humor that of course it’s got to be the ex coming to his aid.

“You’re a moron,” Uhura says in the same dispassionate tone one would answer a math question with.

_I’ve heard it all before._

“Mn. Get you a drink?”

She looks at him out of the corner of her fierce eyes and he sees disgust flit across her face as if she’s asking, _him?_

Yeah. Kirk has the same feeling.

“No. Unlike some people, I don’t drink my emotions into the bottom of a bottle.”

“Could have fooled me,” Kirk laughs humorlessly.

Her next glare makes him feel the specter of a mean hook to his jaw.

“You’re painfully stupid. You _and_ McCoy.”

“Bones? Bones isn’t stupid,” Kirk says lowly, gazing at his glass. It’s full again.

“Oh, he is,” Uhura flips her ponytail and it shines darkly in the night.

“Did you come here just to insult me? Since I’m not technically your Captain right now?”

Uhura gazes at him steadily and Kirk thinks that probably, even on the ship, she would never hesitate to kick any Captain’s ass.

“Do you know when the last time Spock disappeared was?”

Kirk blinks, fingers missing his glass by centimeters. He feels too sober for this conversation so he downs his drink quickly, avoiding her gaze.

“He’s never disappeared.”

It’s the wrong answer, he knows.

“After you got your command,” Uhura starts, speaking almost as if he’s not there. “He didn’t have time to mourn his planet. His people. When they held the ceremony for you- when they were working on the ship, he disappeared. For a week.”

“I thought he was with you,” Kirk says.

Her eyes are hurt but fierce and he thinks that maybe this- _this_ \- is why Spock was with her. Why he let her in.

“He didn’t let me in,” she says, quiet, answering his unspoken question. “He couldn’t, really. He wanted to, I think. He just couldn’t.”

Kirk wants to say _I’m sorry_ but he knows how little trite phrases like that mean.

“I respect myself, you know,” Uhura continues, shooting him a sidelong look. “I wanted to make it work. I wasn’t under any illusions that it would be easy. He’s half Vulcan.”

“Half human, all trouble,” Kirk adds, fighting the grin on his face as he swirls his glass.

Uhura is staring at him. He tries not to meet her eyes. He wants very much to disappear, unconscious, thinking. Thinking about why he suddenly feels like he has to explain a friendship he’s never questioned.

“He opened up to you,” Uhura states. States, like a fact.

He- he doesn’t know what to say. _Fuck._

“I don’t…I’m not sure…,” he tries, staring too hard at his glass. His eyes are stinging.

Uhura shakes her head. She’s disappointed. _Yeah. I am, too._

“You’re an idiot,” she repeats, this time softer. “and he is, too.”

 

* * *

 

Bones wouldn’t have recognized Spock if it weren’t for the fact that he _knows_ the Vulcan’s singularly expressive eyes.

He’s spent a lot of time searching them for emotion. He would know them.

The Vulcan is hiding, he thinks. He’s wearing plain pants and a grey shirt, Starfleet issue. It’s an Academy shirt with a little symbol on the left side of the chest. A dark blue baseball cap covers the top of his ears. Spock, Starfleet Academy swag, is hiding in a small restaurant-hotel in the tourist part of town.

He’s not sure what he’s thinking when he slips into the booth with the Vulcan.

Spock stiffens immediately, glancing at the front door.

“Jim ain’t with me. He’s probably drinkin’ himself into a stupor.” _Like I should be._

The unspoken sentiment is clear to Spock, who seems to relax back into his seat as if he’s giving up. Giving in.

“You followed me,” the Vulcan says quietly.

“No. I wanted food. You weren’t hiding well,” Bones shoots back.

He can see Spock gazing at a spot on the table as if he’s concentrating. _Shit._ It takes Bones a moment to reign in his irritation, focusing on the reason he came over. It wasn’t to test the boundaries of their link.

“Was there something in particular you require, Doctor?”

“This link. Can you…shut it down?”

Spock looks up at Bones with exasperation. _In the eyes. All in the eyes._

“I have tried, Doctor.”

“Have you tried while…the first time, there was physical contact,” Bones amends, tripping on words.

_Why does this have to be so goddamn intimate? Damn Vulcans and their stupid biology._

Spock watches him quietly, eyes surveying as he curls his hand around a cup of tea. There’s curiosity and surprise in his gaze.

“I thought it unwise and rude to suggest such action.”

“But not to keep the truth from us?”

Spock’s eyebrow rises and Bones exhales, trying not to growl.

“I am aware that you are not fond of me, Doctor,” Spock begins.

And _damn_. The words are just like Spock, formal, strung in the right order. His tone, however, is starkly different. Somehow, he sounds more…human. Like a man, Bones thinks, who has tried everything and come up with nothing.

_He’s half human, you asshole,_ Bones tells himself and the thought makes him hate himself a bit more.

“Now, hold on,” Bones swallows, trying to come up with a way to explain that doesn’t sound hypocritical. “We may not see eye-to-eye but I don’t hate you.”

“No?” Spock asks, the eyebrow moving again. “Then I suppose your constant comments on my Vulcan biology and heritage are simply overtures of friendship?”

“Yes!” Bones sputters, because when you put it _that_ way, _well of course it sounds bad_.

Spock stares at him, both eyebrows suspended now.

And then.

And then, Spock sighs, forehead dropping to fall onto his clasped hands. It’s so _frustrated,_ so _tired,_ so _human_ that Bones immediately feels bad for indulging the thought that Spock was heartless.

“Doctor, I believe that I may try closing the connection,” Spock submits, sounding weary and something else unrecognizable. “I will preface by saying that it will likely be…intimate. We will be fully connected for moments.”

Bones blinks rapidly, trying to keep up with the conversation because he has no idea what’s going on with the Vulcan- _half-Vulcan_ \- anymore.

“Well, I ain’t doing this out here.”

The corner of Spock’s mouth twists upwards and at least the smirk- _half-smile_ \- is familiar enough to stop Bones’ heart from pounding.

“No, Doctor. We will retire to my room.”

 

* * *

 

McCoy swallows, watching Spock settle into place across from him. Spock thinks for a moment that the Doctor is prepared to sprint from the room, his hands clenched into fists on his legs.

“This will be easier if you relax, Doctor.”

There’s a brief rush of _embarrassment resentment guilt_ and then the conflicting emotions quiet, dimming into a low murmur. Spock thinks that the Doctor, in his practicality, has probably been trying to control his emotions. It is difficult for humans, Spock knows. He is grateful for the attempt.

“You said we’ll be connected?”

“We will,” Spock agrees. “It will not last long. I will not intrude into your mind. My own is…protected, where it is important.”

“Right,” McCoy mutters, avoiding Spock’s gaze. “Just don’t poke around.”

“Are you ready, Doctor?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” the man replies gruffly and then Spock reaches out, closing his eyes.

With a touch, Spock feels a twinge like static electricity. McCoy flinches away minutely at first, instinct telling him to flee. He does not, however, and Spock is once again grateful.

The connection is not easy. The common thread is not silken, like Spock has experienced. _Once before, with Nyota,_ he thinks. He feels a small rising of nostalgia and fondness. It fades softly, leaving only the Doctor.

Their connection is…hemp, Spock finally decides. Sturdy and tight but a little rough against the skin. It reminds him of the ancient sailors of Earth, rough hands and hard work and intricate knots.

He cannot help feeling affection for the link.

The line vibrates with surprise and awe. It is McCoy, Spock thinks. He hopes to reassure the man so he grasps the cord in his mind, trying to send peace. It seems to work.

Physically, Spock feels McCoy shiver.

_Now to close it,_ Spock thinks. His only guess is that breaking contact will break the link so he prepares himself, readying his mind to ease away.

Before he does, he takes one last chance to immerse himself in McCoy’s mind. It shines brightly in the distance and Spock, curious, finds himself drawn.

It is surprising to Spock that the Doctor’s mind is made of conflicting terrain. There is a feeling of dry heat, like a desert, but also the salt air of the sea. The hemp comes to Spock’s mind again and he smiles, the movement echoing and vibrating across their link.

He can feel the Doctor’s mind, pleased, the emotion translating into a ray of sun. Physically, Spock feels a laugh bubble out from somewhere in his chest.

When he backs away from the connection, hand moving from the Doctor’s face, he opens his eyes and is greeted with eyes that might be blue or hazel- he’s not sure, it’s dark and he’s not really concerned at the moment.

Because McCoy is smiling.

His eyes are crinkled at the corners, weathered lines branching softly outwards like the cracks in the desert Spock had felt.

McCoy is smiling at Spock the way he’s only ever smiled at Jim before.

“I’m sorry,” the man laughs, leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs. He’s shaking his head, tears spilling from joyful eyes.

“Doctor- if I have done something,” Spock begins, worrying that perhaps his glimpse of McCoy’s mind was too much for the man.

“No- no, Spock. _Jesus_. Why _didn’t_ you do that before?” the man gasps for breath, coming off a high of laughter.

Spock blinks, leaning back in his seat. He is confused.

“A mind-meld is not something done lightly,” Spock says tightly, trying to understand.

McCoy rubs his eyes, still shaking his head as if he can’t believe anything.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor admits, ducking his head. “It’s just- if we had done this sooner, maybe we wouldn’t have fought so damn much.”

“I doubt that, Doctor. You have a combative personality,” Spock rebuts.

The words leave his mouth unbidden and he blinks, fully expecting a red face and yelling to follow up the statement.

Instead, Spock is treated to more laughter. And it _is_ a treat.

“You’re a sneaky bastard, Spock,” Bones chuckles, kicking him halfheartedly in the shin. “It ain’t my fault I didn’t know shit about Vulcan sarcasm. I didn’t even know it _existed._ ”

“I hardly know what you are referring to, Doctor,” Spock quips.

He can feel the corner of his mouth pulling upwards and, in usual fashion, he cannot fight it.

Bones notices.

“Yeah. Vulcan my ass,” Bones grins. “And Spock? You can use my name. If that ain’t too hard.”

 

* * *

 

Kirk wakes up with a raging headache and one Doctor Leonard McCoy sitting at his desk.

“Don’t tell me,” Kirk groans, turning over in bed to pull a pillow onto his head. “I don’t wanna know why you’re in here.”

Something vaguely heavy hits him in the side and Kirk makes a small _oof_ sound before lifting the pillow a bit, peeking out to see a bottle of water.

“Drink,” Bones commands.

He sounds suspiciously less grumpy than usual, Kirk thinks. It’s persuasive enough in itself to make him scoot up in bed, uncapping the bottle.

“Why _are_ you here?” he gives in, ignoring the throbbing at his temple.

Bones tosses a bottle of pills his way, one leg crossed over the other. He swivels in the desk chair, gazing up at the ceiling. _Evasive._

“I had an interesting chat yesterday with our favorite green hobgoblin.”

The moniker lacks its usual venom and Kirk squints, staring at Bones. _Okay, something’s up._

“Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks,” Bones deflects, rolling his eyes. “Mind’s still intact, incredibly. You know. Since we had those damn links.”

“Had?”

“That’s why I went. To see if he could fix it.”

“Did he?”

Bones stares at him and Kirk realizes he’s not breathing. He looks away, trying to play it off as he swallows a pill. Bones is shaking his head.

_He knows me too well._

“Yeah. It was…interesting.”

Kirk stares at Bones, suspicious.

“What really happened? You’re acting weird,” Kirk accuses, rising from bed to find his clothes.

He doesn’t really remember the night. He thinks maybe he dragged himself to his hotel. He’s showered, miraculously. His backpack is under the desk so he shoves Bones out of the way with his foot, listening to the roll of the chair along the floor as he grabs fresh clothes.

“You need to talk,” Bones says. He’s deadly serious.

“... _what_?” Kirk stares, shocked. “You’re not Bones. What have you done with Bones?”

“I’m serious, Jim,” the man says, voice rising as he crosses his arms. “You need to talk to him.”

“About _what_? The fact that he’s- he was- we had a connection?” he flubs, waving his hands in confusion.

“Yes. _That_ and the fact that you two probably had some weird fuckin’ conversation I missed while he was messed up from fixing the leak.”

“We didn’t have a conversation,” Kirk protests, padding into the bathroom as he tugs a shirt on. Really he just wants to hide his rising blush.

“…oh, _God_ , did you _kiss_ him?” Bones yells from the room.

“ _No_!” Kirk screams, leaning out of the doorway with wide eyes.

_What the **fuck**?!_

Bones is staring smugly at him, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

_Oh. OH._

Kirk wants to kick himself in the head. Really he should be more aware of when Bones is screwing around. When anyone is, really. He’s just been…unbalanced.

“Bones, come on.”

“No, _you_ come on! Ugh. Or…not,” the man waves a hand, nose wrinkled. “I didn’t need that mental image.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Bones, but no matter what _you_ think, _he_ wants to be alone.”

“Right,” Bones says, staring at him with an incredulous expression. “and I have green blood in me.”

“I don’t know what you two did last night,” Kirk shoots back.

He’s rewarded with a shoe flying at his head.

 

* * *

 

Kirk is wandering the downtown streets when he sees the man.

He almost does a double-take, glad for his Starfleet training when he lets his eyes slide naturally past the figure. He looks back after a minute, trying to ignore the way his heart beats.

The man has dark hair. It’s vaguely wavy, messy and pushed to the side. He has a striking profile, nose straight and almost regal. Kirk notices that the man is wearing an Academy t-shirt, the soft cotton pulled against the lithe muscles of his body.

The stranger looks up, eyes meeting, and Kirk loses his breath.

_Spock._

He should have known. Should have known that even when he thought it was a human, a stranger, he was still attracted. Except maybe it’s _because_ Spock had looked different that he’d let himself be attracted.

Either way, Spock is making a beeline for a small bed and breakfast and Kirk finds himself sprinting after him through the crowd.

He’s out of breath and unthinking when he runs into the restaurant, catching a brief glimpse of Spock as he ascends the stairs.

_He has a nice ass,_ Kirk thinks for a second and he feels his smile stretching wide across his face.

_“You’re an idiot and he is, too.”_

His shoes beat against the wood floor as he chases after Spock, skidding up behind him as his friend opens the door to his room.

Spock barely turns, half facing Kirk, eyes widening a fraction of an inch.

_“Right. And I have green blood in me.”_

Kirk is laughing as he crowds Spock into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Jim, what-,”

He doesn’t care, doesn’t let Spock finish because his hands are linked behind the neck of the half-Vulcan, half-human, _whole person_ and then Kirk is pulling him forward and down ever so slightly ( _two inches, Bones, stop laughing!_ ) with the force of a hurricane because he _can’t stop_.

It’s not the messiest or most rushed kiss Kirk has ever had but it makes the top ten.

When their lips connect, he almost gasps, feeling something like a million bee stings all across his body. It reminds him of the tiny tattoo behind his ear, the needles that had been a dull buzzing and a distant pain. The sharpness is new for a moment and then it changes, the pain and shock morphing into something that reaches a crescendo in his rushing ears.

It bursts like a water balloon and then Kirk _does_ gasp, the warmth of the mouth against his mirrored in the connection he suddenly feels in his mind.

_It’s perfect._

He’s only ever experienced a mind-meld with Spock Prime. It had been hurried, desperate, and sharp. Not invasive, never cruel- but it had been uncomfortable.

This, because Kirk _knows_ it’s a mind-meld, is what he thinks it _should_ have been like.

“Jim,” his name is mumbled against his mouth but he presses closer, hanging on, trying to capture the moment.

Their link is indescribable. It’s like a shower of hot water against his lips, a low buzzing and warmth that is both intangible and _right there._ He feels almost as if he’s soaring inside, his heart rising like a hot air balloon.

And Spock’s mind. His mind is so _bright_ , a watercolor of emotions and thoughts all blending into each other. Kirk distantly thinks of a lake, clear and placid, in the middle of a basin dotted with flowers. There’s glass bridge across the lake. He wants to laugh, wants to ask _why no laboratories?_

Spock pulls away and Kirk breathes deeply, knowing his face is flushed and his eyes are wide.

“Why-?” Spock tries but his voice breaks on the word, as shaky as his composure seems.

“You know why,” Kirk laughs, breathless, tangling one hand in Spock’s brilliantly messy hair. _I’ve always wanted to do that._ “You know now.”

The second time, it’s Spock that leans down, searching and desperate as he crowds Kirk against the wall.

_I love you. I love you, I love you,_ he thinks, pouring it through the link. It echoes back at him, the words turned into honey and spice in his mind.

_I love you too._

**Author's Note:**

> "I didn't mean for it to got this far."  
> Famous last words! Really, though I did not intend to write something so long. Also, the idea changed as I wrote it. I hope you all enjoyed. Let me know if you'd like to see Bones/Spock alternate relationship version. Maybe I'll even write an ambiguous Poly relationship because let's face it, Jim and Spock would so totally spoil Bones.


End file.
